


Love at Center Ice

by karfishylicious



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Hockey AU, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karfishylicious/pseuds/karfishylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axton was kicked out of the Dahl Kraggons for not being a team player, and not cooperating when the Hyperion Hornets continued to buy them out, game after game. Out of options, Axton finds this small team, Moxxi's Pythons, and decides to train them to be the top team in the league. Now the Assistant Coach alongside Rhys, Axton promises revenge on Hyperion. Slowly developed relationship between Rhys and Axton. Very fluffy, smut in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love at Center Ice

**Author's Note:**

> okay so my friend tris and I had this amazing idea that we should make a Hockey AU and since we desperately need more Rhaxton we put the two together and this masterpiece of a story came out. All thanks to the player Jonathan Dahl from the Idaho Steelheads. We love you man, even if you arent an Alaska Ace :y

The anger had Axton shaking in his gear. They had done it, the exact thing they had promised never to do. They sold out to the lesser team, let themselves be bought again and again. The sport wasn't what it used to be anymore, the new Hyperion team buying their way to the top the past few years had ruined the once great league. Teams had dropped out or fallen apart, the members running from the mayhem that came with refusing a deal from the mysterious owner of Hyperion.

And he fucking hated it. He hated looking into the stands after watching his team's goalie miss another shot, hated looking at the fans as they watched their team fall to the hands of a well bought team.

Bought. Not trained.

That was what had Axton so angry right now. He had lashed out at one of the players that had called him a dog on the ice. The coward's words had crawled under his skin and sat there through the entire first period, driving themselves a little deeper each time he watched a teammate take the fall for another bullshit call from the refs.  
So when the second period had started, and the same rival player came to whisper their words into Axton's ear while waiting for the puck drop, he lost the last bit of control. He barely remembered slipping his gloves off, the small push from his right skate he had given to collide with the shit talker. But the rush, oh man he remembered the rush.

The feeling of his fist meeting flesh as he nailed the bastard in the face, the stiff tape on his hand leaving tiny cuts in the soft skin of his cheek. It had felt great, beating the true sense of what hockey meant to the little slug. And as he had been dragged away, the blood from a broken nose and jaw on his hands, Axton had felt the seed of pride blooming in his chest again. For the first time that season he hadn't let himself be bought by the sniveling shits that the league was calling the top team for yet again another year.

So when the news came that he was being dropped from the Dahl Kraggons, it didn't come as a surprise. He had seen it coming, the defeated look on the face of the messenger, the half assed excuse of an apology from the managers. It was all like he expected. So he had packed his bags and left the city of Opportunity, finding his way to the small towns in the waste, hoping to leave the thrill of the game behind and to start anew.

 

 

"Mr. Jones?"

Axton looked up from his phone and to the lady standing in the doorway. A concerned look on his face knew the news she was about to give him wasn't good. He stood up and hefted the bag of gear onto his shoulder, walking to the lady and following her to a small office. Through the window he could see the ice rink, with the current players of the Atlas Skags skating around and practicing shots. Axton sighed and sank down into the chair. The lady sat down gracefully and looked at him sternly through her bright red-rimmed glasses.

"Mr. Jones. I have taken the liberty to look up some of your history and I have to say I am absolutely astounded at the amount of fights you have caused." She places a list in front of Axton and reads off the list, as if she thinks he can't read it. "35 accounts of roughing, 5 accounts of boarding, 16 accounts of elbowing and checking from behind, 2 accounts of game misconduct, 20 accounts of slashing and 13 accounts of hooking. I cannot help but be extremely concerned about what you might bring to this team if you were a part of it. Coach Pollux and I have agreed that we cannot allow such a troublemaker onto this refined team. Thank you for coming in, but I have to say you are not fit to be an Atlas Skag."

Axton nodded and stood up, grabbed his duffel bag and walked out of the office. When he made it out to his Jeep he laid his head back onto the head rest and sighed.

Well, that crossed that team off his list.

The Jakobs Jaguars took one look at him and slammed the door on his face before he could even say "Hi, I'm here for try-outs."

Maliwan Mambas would have almost hired him if it weren't for some asshat calling him a "slut for Hyperion" so Axton had to knock some sense into the kid.

Torgue Bullets didn't really care about his record, but with their completely insane plays Axton realized why they never made it past the first week of the championship and so he walked out.

The drive back to his home in downtown Denver was a long one. Axton spent it listening to his favorite radio station, but it had to not play any songs he liked. The drone of dubstep flowed through his speakers as he took in the grey skies of the cloudy day. Cars passed by, on their way to jobs or something. Axton was hoping for a distraction, something interesting, but all he got was seemingly endless glassed-walled buildings and traffic. He sighed as he stopped at another stop light. Looking around, he saw the community ice rink to his right. He could make out a few figures on the ice, playing around. Axton perked up at that sight, desperately wanting to play an actual game of Hockey. He turned his blinker on and when the light turned green, he drove to the ice rink, a small smile on his face.

Axton hopped out of the large truck, pulling out the gear from the passenger seat. Now that he was closer, he could see that the players varied from a 15 year old looking girl to a extremely nervous-looking goalie that was standing ridged and flinched whenever the puck came near him. Axton raised an eyebrow but walked closer, spotting a tall guy wearing a bright blue vest, standing outside the rink near the goalie. He had out a clipboard and was chewing on his pencil, probably thinking hard about something. Axton decided to walk over to him because hey, you can't just walk into the middle of a game. When he got close, the man in the blue vest looked up from his clipboard. When they made eye contact, Axton could see the other mans eyes go wide and his face go pale. Ax stepped up to him and grinned, holding out a hand.

"Hey! I saw y'all playing out here and I was wondering if I could play with you for a bit? I've been at tryouts the whole day and I just want to play a fun game of Hockey for once today."

The man opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, looking shocked at the scene in front of him. He soon shook himself out of it though, and cleared his throat so he could answer.

"Haaaa, yeah! S-sure! I don't know why such a famous hockey player like you would even think about playing with a small team like ours but- but go ahead!" The man nervously smiled and lightly shook Axton's outreached hand.

"Well, great! My name is Axton, by the way. Axton Jones. Whats yours?"

The man coughed and nodded. "Oh, y-yeah, I figured it was you. I'm Rhys Taylor. Coach of Moxxi's Pythons as we call ourselves." he laughed softly and bit his lip.

Axton smiled and clapped Rhys on the shoulder, setting his gear bag down on the bench nearby. "Thanks for lettin' me join! Maybe I can teach y'all a few things!"

Rhys nodded and smiled. "That would definitely be appreciated, Mr. Jones."

"Oh, you can just call me Ax, doll." Axton threw a wink at Rhys and walked away to put his gear on.

Rhys placed a gloved hand to his hot face and sighed, soon returning to his paperwork on the clipboard.


End file.
